


Loving Him was Red

by Kanceir



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Vampire AU, vampyre AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-07 12:43:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1899477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kanceir/pseuds/Kanceir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Saruhiko is a vampyre, a monster. He's familiarized himself with this death-ridden lifestyle for the good of two years, and is intent on living out his eternity quietly letting his mind rot away into insanity. That is, until an unexpected reunion occurs. A part of his past is in town, and refuses to leave him be. Not only that, but lurking in the shadows is another creature of the night, one whose intentions are revealed in disturbing ways along Saruhiko's path. Unbeknownst to Saruhiko, this man happens to be his Sire, and has taken an interest in the boy from his Bloodline's human past.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Witness

**Author's Note:**

> Hello~! This is my first work here on ao3, so please forgive me if I'm not exactly up to par. I'm used to ff's layout, so this is all kind of new to me. Additionally, this is my first work for the K fandom! I hope you find this story enjoyable and stay along for the ride ^_^

  Saruhiko had this sick obsession with "playing" with his victims. He absolutely loved the thrill of the chase, as well as changing up the result of the kill from time to time. Maybe he would leave them to suffer their own Shifting process; or maybe he would draw the kill out over a period of days, letting them slip away for a time and regain themselves before showing up again to repeat the process until he felt it time to finish the job. Or perhaps he wouldn't delay his feast and go right on ahead with draining them dry. Honestly, it all depended on his patience and desire for entertainment. Today he was feeling particularly frisky.

  The vampyre's hand collided with his newest victim's head, feet carrying him out of sight before the man — early-to-mid twenties, he presumed — could have much of a chance to spot him, much less retaliate. Saruhiko returned with a low kick to the back of the guy's legs, forcing him to his knees. And once more he rounded back, jabbing his fist into the hopeless human's gut and dragging him up against the brick wall of the alley they'd stumbled into. Saruhiko couldn't help but take notice of the cliche.

  "How stupid can you be? Running into an alley like this — don't you know how bad of an idea that is?" The raven questioned, playfully tilting his head in a mirror-like motion to the man's own lolling skull. Regardless of the situation he'd been put in, the mortal was able to crack a smile, lips stained with the blood coughed up from the last blow he took.

  "That's what always happens in the horror movies, isn't it?" He managed out, voice obviously strained from his recent panicked marathon and dwindling adrenaline. Saruhiko tilted his head curiously this time. "I've always wanted to be in a horror movie. 'Least this way I can die like they do in horror movies." He explained before his voice was caught up in another violent coughing session. Saruhiko actually smiled at that — a genuinely surprised smile, rather than the crazed, fanged grin he was known for.

  "Well, I must say that is quite the interesting outlook you've got there. I suppose it's only right that I grant you your wish." And with that, he sank his awaiting fangs into the soft tissue of the man's neck, relishing the warm, thick liquid that spilled onto his tongue. Of all the things that could happen whilst hunting, Saruhiko thought that he liked this part the best: the mouth-watering scent of blood, the satisfying sight of his prey's flesh reddening around his lips and draining of colour everywhere else, the desperate gasps for a few more seconds of life. It was all a very intimate affair, really, but vampyres couldn't exactly be picky about their meals. With as much effort as it took to single people out nowadays, a vampyre took what he could get his hands on. Saruhiko had entertained the thought of having an intimate human partner, if only for the sole purpose of not being somewhat disgusted each time it came around for him to feed. Alas, that would indeed likely be the one and only reason, so this vampyre saw no need to chase after such fruitless fantasies.

  When Saruhiko could no longer hear the man's breath nor feel his excited pulse, and the taste he lived for began to shrivel on his tongue, he released the corpse, body hitting the cold and slightly damp pavement beneath with a hollow thump. The raven swept a hand across his mouth, gathering a stray stream of blood that was threading itself down his chin. He couldn't help but to lick away its remains.

  It was then, however, that Saruhiko became ultra aware of a pair of eyes on him. It was quite the eerie feeling, really, at the thought of someone having witnessed that without his knowledge. The overwhelming scent of blood just beneath his nostrils seldom allowed him to focus on anything other than his prey, so it only stood to reason that he wouldn't sense the presence of another until after the fact.

  Saruhiko turned — a flash of a movement not comprehensible to the human eye. There, at the end of this dank alley, stood a relatively short figure; it only amused the vampyre to discover this tiny human was a male. The boy was standing there, horror-stricken eyes flickering from the lifeless body to that of Saruhiko's figure when he realized he'd been spotted. Saruhiko was amused to hear the boy's heartbeat falter in that moment of meeting those cold, crazed blue eyes. In the next, the human cursed and dropped the skateboard in hand, frantically propelling himself onto it and down the length of the sidewalk, effectively launching himself out of the madman's sight. That famous smile of his was what decorated Saruhiko's face then.

  Oh how he loved the thrill of the chase.

  It was almost laughable how the boy flew through the air when his skateboard was suddenly stopped, the momentum sending him crashing against the pavement. He didn't allow himself to be dazed, though, and quickly stumbled to his feet and completely disregarded the new bruises and scrapes beginning to bead with blood. He didn't get to run very far before a swift punch to his lower back sent him to his knees again. Oh, but he was determined. The fear was heavy on him — just another incentive for the vampyre's amusement. He was on his feet once more, though he was moving noticeably more slowly now. Saruhiko idly trailed behind him for a moment, hands in his pockets and lips twisted in that horrific grin of his.

  And suddenly the boy was against the wall — Saruhiko liked this method the most — a hand clasped around his neck, though not tightly enough to constrict his breathing. Of course, he was having enough trouble with that as it was, what with the situation he'd been put into. Perhaps it was a bit early for Saruhiko to feed again, but he couldn't have this witness escape, now could he? He didn't want the locals knowing there was a vampyre in town, after all.

  Saruhiko's neck dipped down to the curve of the boy's neck, easily finding its juncture where the pulse beat strongest. The scent was as irresistible as always, but Saruhiko couldn't help but feel that something was off. His eyes narrowed in suspicion before closing as he inhaled deeply the scent of the boy.

  Yes, there was definitely something wrong with that. It stirred a long-since slumbering past within him, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Saruhiko was _afraid_ of meeting the eyes of another. Because it wouldn't be his victim suffering a horrifying realization: it was him.

  "Misaki?"

* * *

  All this time the boy had been struggling against him and he hadn't even noticed. Yet when recognition finally clicked in his mind, Saruhiko allowed himself to stumble back due to a particularly strong push, though only because he was in shock. It seemed the short brunet was in a similar state, though he couldn't afford to allow himself to lower his guard around this vampyre.

  "H...How do you know my name?" Misaki asked wearily, eyes flickering back and forth between his attacker and his skateboard, which lay a good meter or so away. He was obviously debating whether or not to make a run for it, but curiousity towards Saruhiko's knowledge made him stay. Tch...what a human mistake.

  However it was then that the raven realized how dark it was, so late at night — his enhanced night vision allowed him to see nearly as clear as day no matter the time. Misaki probably couldn't see who he was right now.

  "Misaki..." For a moment he could only repeat the name, leaving his lips with a foreign familiarity that Saruhiko thought he would never experience again. "It's...it's me...Saru..." Why was he wasting his time with this? Why couldn't he just move on, and leave town? He didn't want to be here, not if this boy was here, too. There were too many complications, too many risks. Yet he couldn't make himself move away — only closer to the memory that he'd left to the wind so long ago. Misaki predictably moved farther away in response to his subconscious advancement.

  "Saru? I don't know a..." That stained voice trailed off as hazel eyes narrowed in thought. To the vampyre's utter surprise, Misaki took a shaky step forward, eyes widening slowly as he got closer, and saw for himself what had shocked this creature of the night so thoroughly. "Saru...hiko?" Another step; Saruhiko couldn't move, nor speak. He felt paralyzed, looking down at the boy with disbelief, uncertainty, pain and astonishment all swirling into one conflicted mess in his normally so composed blue optics. "Saruhiko...it is you..." And suddenly there was warmth, accompanied by a weight on his chest, yet the vampyre was still frozen to the bone, hardly budging when the other practically fell onto him. Arms were wrapping tightly, too tightly around his torso, and Saruhiko felt like he was suffocating in the moment. But that was just his consciousness.

  His instincts, however, never failed to persevere.

  Saruhiko's vision blurred in that odd manner that he hated so much, causing him to lose sight of what was right in front of him and instead focusing on that of which lay beneath the soft flesh of what had originally been his prey. It wasn't as if he'd have been able to help it, what with that swan's neck being bared to him so suddenly. His hands twitched, lips spreading to make way for the sharpened bone protruding from his mouth. And he touched that supple flesh, mind reeling with its scent, its taste, its devilish temptation. For a moment he lost himself, but only just. Yet for that split second in which he ceased to be Saruhiko Fushimi and completely became the monster that constantly coursed through his veins, it was terrifying. When Saruhiko came to there was blood on his lips, though his fangs had only grazed the smooth terrain that was Misaki's neck. Misaki himself had gone limp nearly immediately, breath heaving in that suggestive way that Saruhiko normally despised hearing. But here, he found himself to be rather...

  Excited.

  And it was terrifying.

  In the next moment, Fushimi had put distance between himself and that boy, his trembling body stumbling backwards from the force he used to shove Misaki away. The boy slumped against the brick wall of the building the sidewalk outlined, still looking rather dazed though regaining consciousness. That was good; Saruhiko's aphrodisiac had never held its potency for long. That particular aspect was normally a disadvantage for a vampyre, but Saruhiko, being who he was, had never particularly had a use for his poison. He had no interest in triggering a Shift in someone he didn't plan on killing later anyway — putting his prey in that state made the hunt that much more exciting. And the gods knew sex was never foremost in his mind when blood was on his tongue. It was always kill, devour and kill, _savour_ and kill.

  "What...the hell just happened?" Came Misaki's confused remark, causing Fushimi to return his attention to his almost-victim. They caught each other's eyes again, and Saruhiko couldn't be sure if fear or relief was the dominant expression he saw in those brilliant amber pools. "Saruhiko...you...you're..." He couldn't seem to get the words out, but the vampyre was no longer under the initial effects of his shock, and he managed to compose himself somewhat. One of his many abilities was not being too terribly affected by emotions like that, and was also his best asset. A vampyre couldn't afford to have emotions, after all.

  "You need to leave." Fushimi flinched at how ragged his voice sounded — apparently his body hadn't recovered as quickly as his mind. "It isn't safe for you here." He added.

  "Leave... The hell I'm leaving!" The defiant profanity was so familiar to Saruhiko's subconscious that he didn't even blink at the exclamation. "You're...what? You expect me to just forget this ever happened and book it? Fuck that! Saru, I haven't seen you since..." Misaki seemed to have trouble getting the words out, which only made the creature in question's eyes narrow.

  "Since I became a monster, right?" He provided helpfully, earning the boy's hitched breath before a troubled growl.

  "You're not a monster..." He claimed, though the way he averted his eyes made that statement utterly unbelievable. Saruhiko knew what he was better than anyone else. "Vampyre" didn't cover his insanity, his lust for death. "Vampyre" was his body: his fangs, his poison, his vision, his carnal necessity to ingest blood. But his mind was his own: the way he oh so enjoyed sinking his teeth into the flesh of his prey, how the scent of blood was like the best kind of drug in the world, his sick enjoyment in watching his victims try to crawl away in a pool of their own scarlet essence, begging for their dwindling lives. The mere thought had such an effect on him that he had to look away from the brunet, for fear of enacting those amusements on him.

  "Hey, are you even listening to me?" He hadn't realized the boy'd been talking, and when he looked up now he saw Misaki was once again attempting to close the distance between them, though he felt a long-time-no-see embrace wasn't what he was planning this time. Saruhiko made a show of disappearing from the boy's sight, before stopping behind him with a shoulder against the coarse brick.

  "I'm sorry; that annoying buzzing noise coming from your mouth was a tad off-putting." He shot, unable to help his own past self from surfacing. Misaki spun around in surprise, though the irritation gathering on his face was quickly replaced with a knowing smirk.

  "You haven't changed at all, Saru." He remarked, taking the taller by an instance of surprise before a glare overcame his pale features.

  "You know as well as I do that that's a lie." He pointed out bitterly, causing the brunet's face to curve into a frown. "What are you doing here?" Fushimi finally questioned. "What happened to that gang of yours...Honda or something?" He'd never made it a point to remember the name of that filth. Regardless, Misaki gave him an exasperated look.

  "It's HOMRA, ya stupid monkey." He corrected. The since estranged nickname made Saruhiko's unmoving chest heavy for a moment. "If you must know, I'm here on a mission for Mikoto-san." A twinge of a loathing that hadn't become entirely too unfamiliar to Saruhiko. "But I'm the one who should be asking questions. Where the hell have you been? Why'd you have to up and leave like that, huh? I was worried, you know." This last came out as a low mumble, but Saruhiko's keen ears had no trouble hearing it. His smile was cruel, though inwardly he almost felt touched, with a side of disgust.

  "Misaki, you know the answer to all those questions." He said blatantly.

  "Stop calling me that!" The shorter burst. Heh, Fushimi was wondering when he'd snap at that.

  "My reason for leaving, especially the way I did, well...you saw that just a few minutes ago, didn't you?" He inquired knowingly, tilting his head to the side in a similar fashion as earlier. "How did that make you feel, Misaki? Don't you understand how much of a monster I really am? Do you want to know how it felt for me?" His smile widened along with his eyes in a crazed sort of anticipation. "It felt wonderful, to tear into that man's throat. To take away every single dream for the future he had, every hope or wish. He could have had a family and I couldn't care less. All I care about is the blood, Misaki. The taste...the smell...the sight of that crimson poison spilling across my tongue..." He was helpless to stop his eyes from roaming to Misaki's neck again. The blood had since dried, but it still smelled very fresh to him, even from this distance. He could hear the boy's pulse increasing with his words and obvious distraction.

  "Hey, eyes up here, dumbass!" Saruhiko followed the order on his own accord, amused to see the red gathering under his old friend's cheeks. He could practically see that red wine rushing through his veins, and he felt his own excitement start up again. It really was dangerous, being around Misaki. He'd always been a distraction to Saruhiko. "And don't say stuff like that...it's creepy." Another smile.

  "Well I'm a creepy person, Mi→sa↗ki↘" Oh how old habits died hard.

  "What did I say about calling me by that name?!" His shirt was being tugged on by a little ball of anger and he thought it was cute. With a swift movement, Misaki's chest was pressed roughly against the wall, the hand used to assault Saruhiko's attire secured behind his back whilst the other was trapped in the nimble fingers of the vampyre. Fushimi pressed himself against the struggling skateboarder, giving a breathy chuckle as the brunet's own breath hitched.

  "Misaki, I don't think you quite understand who you're messing with." He said, his voice a predatory purr in the older's ear. The shudder — which would have been imperceptible to a normal person — only increased his exhilaration. "I'm not the same nerd who always followed you around like a puppy. I'm a monster, Yata. Just like in the horror movies. Vicious, heartless, evil, bloodthirsty..." He nicked the brunet's ear with a tooth, earning a small hiss in response. The boy's scent was intoxicating — he wasn't sure why, but he supposed it was because Yata was engraved into his memory, an unforgettable presence, and his vampyric instincts were adapting to that familiarity, twisting it into something so sinfully desirable that Saruhiko found it hard to keep his fangs covered. If Yata's distressed panting was anything to go by, he'd say the boy was aware of that, too.

  "Saruhiko, please...let's just talk...I...I don't want to lose you again." Misaki admitted, albeit sheepishly. Cute. But his words only made Saruhiko frown.

  "Then don't think of it as losing me. You never had me to begin with." And then the wind was in his place, the pressure of his body lifted from Misaki's in the blink of an eye. Fushimi was already far away, biting down harshly on his lip as he ran and drawing cold blood into his mouth. He never liked his own blood. He much preferred it warm.

 

  In the shadows lurked yet a third presence, one that had borne humoured witness to the entire interaction between Saruhiko and this Misaki boy. This presence — this man — adjusted the useless glasses on his nose, a smirk playing at his pale lips. For as long as he'd been observing Saruhiko, he never imagined he still had connections to his human past. Although it seemed as if the vampyre hadn't been aware of it himself, which only intrigued this creature more.

  He would have to keep an eye on this Misaki boy. He wouldn't want him interfering with his plans for Saruhiko.


	2. Necessities

  Yata practically slammed the door shut upon entering the apartment he was renting during his stay in this city. He was just so...ugh! How could he have let Saruhiko get away like that?! After all this time...and he'd begun to believe that he'd never see that idiot again! And the minute he did, he was gone again, just like that. Man, even now Saruhiko still managed to get under his skin without even trying.

  "That piece of shit!" His fist collided with the wall, efficiently putting a dent in the plaster. He was breathing hard, but the stinging pain he'd grown used to welling up in his knuckles seemed to relax him. Yata sighed, retracting his hand and studying the damage. As expected, he'd broken the skin again, but it wasn't as bad as usual. That didn't stop blood from welling up in the new wounds, though. The sight of it made the side of his neck throb, and he subconsciously lifted a hand to the spot Saruhiko had bitten. The memory of that sensation brought a furious flush to Yata's cheeks, and his eyebrows furrowed.

  So the monkey was a vampyre now. In all honesty, Yata had come to this conclusion long ago. Kusanagi had been the one to toss around the idea, and at first Yata was furious at him for even thinking such a thing. But as time went by, Yata began to realize that all the signs had been there. During the couple weeks before he left, Saruhiko had been extremely sensitive to light, even the artificial kind. He wouldn't eat as much as he used to, and when he did he almost always drank wine with it. Wine was known as a sort of substitute for vampyres when they couldn't get their fangs on blood, but it only worked for maybe a day. Soon, that was all that Saruhiko would drink, and Yata couldn't count the times he came home to find that bastard passed out drunk on their apartment couch, or sometimes even on the floor when he couldn't make it to the couch.

  And he was almost always sleeping during the day. Yata didn't stand a chance at getting that guy to come to sometimes, but as soon as the sun went down it was like he was being resurrected from the dead. He went to a lot of parties around that time, which so wasn't Saru's style, and would constantly worry the brunet when he didn't come home some nights. Sometimes he'd get a call from Kusanagi saying Saru had passed out in the bar, or come there to find him himself in the morning. Sometimes Yata wouldn't even see Saru until the next night. All of it had confused and frustrated Misaki beyond belief, but every time he called Saruhiko out on his behavior all he got was cluelessness. He knew something had been wrong with him then, but he just didn't know what. Or didn't want to know, more rather.

  Sighing lengthily, Misaki settled himself heavily on the tacky double bed provided in the room. He still had his mission to worry about, but he suddenly dreaded thinking about what he was to do here.

  There had been evidence of a vampyre in town. Misaki's mission was to find out more about this vampyre and report back to HOMRA in a week. The skater sighed again, the sound catching a small whine in the back of his throat this time. He already knew more than enough about this vampyre.

* * *

  "Awashima-kun, please. There's business to discuss." Came the vampyre's rumbling chuckle as the woman left a cold line of saliva across his neck. She sat back on his lap, a disappointed pout on her face.

  "But you haven't let me feed yet." She complained, tracing one of the numerous bite marks on the man's collarbone with her sharpened fingernail. A cold hand reached up to entrap her wrist lightly, a smooth smile on his face.

  "There'll be time for that later. Right now it's best if we focus on our objective." He told her, earning a long sigh as the blonde lolled her head back. Just then, the door to the man's office opened, and another vampyre revealed himself. He stopped in the doorway, merely raising a brow at his shirtless captain being straddled by his lieutenant, though otherwise didn't comment on it. He was used to walking in at these times.

  "He's on the move again, sir." The newcomer, Akira Hidaka, informed. The man lounging in his office chair heaved a quiet breath, circling his finger around the edge of his wine glass thoughtfully.

  "Very well. Please send one or two of you to keep an eye on him. Make sure he doesn't try to leave town again." He ordered, receiving an obedient nod in return before Hidaka took his leave. Another sigh; Fushimi really was a piece of work. The moment a human from his past shows up in town and the first thing he does is try to book it. They simply couldn't have that. "Now, Awashima. Have you gathered the latest reports?" He questioned his lieutenant, eyeing her hard amber eyes.

  "Yes, sir. Everything from this month has been organized by date." She confirmed, then paused to give him a wary look. "You might find them more interesting this time, Captain. This place seems to be attracting a lot more attention recently. The Silver King is here." She pointed out. This predictably caught the man's attention, and the glint in his gaze was the only thing to expose that.

  "Is that so? My, if the Silver King has taken an interest, we must be on the right track. It isn't every day he involves himself in matters such as this." He noted. "Awashima, please inform the special units of this and have them prepare to be mobilized. We shall confer with the Silver King as soon as possible." He instructed. The woman nodded, but didn't move straight away. She gave him a knowing look, and he could only smile. "I suppose I do owe you for all your hard work." He said teasingly before tilting his head to the side to bare his neck. Her teeth latched onto the exposed flesh without hesitation, and the elder vampyre could only roll his eyes in amusement.

  _'Cannibal.'_

* * *

  Fushimi wasn't stupid by any standards: He knew when he was being followed. He darted into an alley that he knew would lead to a dead end, which gave his pursuers no choice but to follow him in. Once he reached the end, he turned swiftly, just catching a coat tip disappearing back behind a building corner. The young vampyre smiled at the thought of a spar.

  "Please don't tell me you think I'm that dimwitted. I'm offended." He said, loudly enough for them to hear. After a moment in which Saruhiko's smile turned into an anticipating smirk, three forms revealed themselves to him. He took in their odd uniforms -- they reminded him of some kind of foreign revolutionary army, with a dash of pirate. "What can I do for you fine gentlemen this evening?" He inquired sarcastically.

  "Fushimi Saruhiko, Shifted vampyre of Shizume City. That is you, correct?" One of them -- his dark hair styled to the right -- asked. Fushimi tilted his head to the side in acknowledgement. "We are of Scepter Four, an exclusively vampyre-affiliated organization with the ultimate objective of protecting and maintaining the balance between vampyres and humans. As an unregistered, newly Shifted vampyre, you've become a top priority of Captain Munakata Reisi, also known as the Blue King." What an explanation! Too bad Saruhiko couldn't care less.

  "Tch, a King, huh? As if I need one of those in my life right now..." Saruhiko murmured this last, though without the intention of hiding the words. Kings were like vampyric gods, in a sense. They were some of the eldest vampyres in existence, only a few still remaining today. Those few were the oldest and Silver King, the Gold King, Red King, and Blue King. The Silver King was considered the origin of vampyres, though Saruhiko had his doubts. The Red King just happened to be the vampyre Saruhiko had been loyally pledged under just two years ago when he was still human, and was known as Suoh Mikoto. Until now, he hadn't been sure about the other two Kings, though it seemed he'd stumbled into the city of the Blue King without realizing it, and now he was paying the price. "And what exactly does your King want with me?" He questioned tiredly, losing his excitement about a potential battle. Obviously these guys had some business with him and the thought of any kind of work just made him want to lay down.

  Oddly enough, the three of them seemed to look at each other in confusion. "W-well...he'd like you to join us, of course." Said another, his bluish hair swept neatly toward the back, save for a few thick locks framing his face. Fushimi merely furrowed his brows.

  "You say that like I should know." He pointed out skeptically. Another exchange of glances, which only increased Saruhiko's irritation.

  "You mean you don't?" Asked the first in obvious surprise. "We thought you would already be aware...Captain Munakata is your Sire, Fushimi." It seemed that receiving that information was number two on the very short list of things that could surprise Saruhiko enough to freeze all movement.

  All he could do was stare for a long moment. The third member of the trio who hadn't spoken shifted his feet uncomfortably, though the other two simply awaited a reaction from the stunned vampyre. He simply couldn't grasp what he'd just been told. The Blue King, his Sire? That was...that was impossible! They had to be lying! But...what reason did he have to think that? Perhaps that he'd been jumped in an alleyway in the dead of night. For some reason he didn't think that someone of a King's stature would resort to attacking some strange teen in a back street.

  Could he be forgetting something then?

  Another occurance, maybe, that happened afterwards? It wasn't uncommon for vampyres to forget things about the moment their Shifting process was triggered, especially young ones. It was proven that memory returned as a vampyre aged, and Saruhiko was aware that he didn't even know he'd been in an alley just a year ago. Was it possible that something else could have happened that night that befitted being Sired by a King?

  Try as he might, he couldn't recall anything more, though the feeling that there certainly was more lingered in his mind. He shook his head slightly in annoyance -- he hated not knowing stuff like this. He'd been content ignoring that time in his life up until now, because he was under the impression that it held little significance. But now he was so curious that it was maddening not knowing the details.

  "...He wants me to join you?" He asked, repeating the other's statement from before. He held a hand to his throbbing head, fingers raking through the hair hanging in his face. "I...no. I won't. The last time I got mixed up with a King I was turned into a vampyre. I don't even want to contemplate what might happen around this Munakata guy." He said, regaining himself little by little, though he was now suffering quite the headache. He would need some alcohol later.

  "If that is the case, then we must request that you remain within this city for the time being, under Captain's orders." Said the second of the three. Fushimi narrowed his eyes.

  "And why should I?" He asked bitterly. The last thing he wanted to do was stay here, where apparently his Sire lived in addition to Misaki's presence. Those two were bound to stir up all kinds of drama for him, and that was not something he wanted to deal with in his eternity.

  "We have been permitted to use force in response to noncompliance with Captain's orders." The first replied, hand subtly coming to rest on the sword holstered to his side. Saruhiko snorted; what did they need swords for? As if the perks of being a vampyre weren't enough.

  "Tch...whatever." Much as Saruhiko just wanted to leave, he knew that if he did this shitstorm was bound to follow him. He thought it would be easier to simply ride it out until it blew over once and for all. He just hoped that would be soon.

  
  
  Saruhiko found himself returning to his den then. His eye twitched at the word he subconsciously used to replace "house". Becoming a vampyre filled one's mind with a somewhat altered vocabulary: life became eternity, since he wasn't technically living anymore, home became den, eat became feed, et cetera. He supposed it was something in the poison that triggered the Shifting process, a gene passed along from its origins that caused the victim's mind to adapt as well as its body.

  Regardless, the vampyre was too worn to worry about his choice of wording at the moment. The sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon, which meant it was time for Saruhiko to settle in to sleep. Despite the stereotypes that had taken over the minds of many before this disease broke out, vampyres were still somewhat human. Many things remained the same, such as morality, intelligence, select bodily necessities. The things that differed, however, were quite extensive. Vampyres didn't need human food; they needed a certain combination in their diet, the components of which are found primarily in blood: erythrocytes and plasma. Or, certain things that plasma carries, more rather. The Shifting process causes nearly all vital human functions to cease. This includes producing red blood cells, hence the need to ingest them. Plasma is another component that becomes absent during a Shift, and while its necessity is far less important than erythrocytes, they still play an important roll for a vampyre. Since plasma is what transports nutrients, proteins, antibodies and much more throughout the body, vampyres eventually have a need for it. While a vampyre's natural adaptations make things such as plasma a bare necessity, the body still requires such things in order to function properly. Blood is essentially what fuels a vampyre's immortality.

  Saruhiko shifted in his bed. All this thinking of blood made him hungry again. He sighed, crossing the short distance across his house to his wine rack. He studied its contents for a moment before picking out a bottle of 1982 Red Bordeaux Blend. He found that this particular wine always helped him get to sleep faster, so his reasoning was fair. He didn't bother with a glass this time -- he didn't want the burden of continuously pouring out a favourable amount.

  So with his wine in hand, Saruhiko returned to his bed to make an attempt of sleeping. Maybe if he drank enough he wouldn't remember this night for a while.

* * *

  Munakata studied the sleeping boy. He could certainly see the appeal in a body like that -- the height was capable of being overlooked. In fact he found it rather cute. Alas, he pried his eyes away from the brunet to observe the rest of his apartment. Getting in had been easy enough -- one would think that a clansman on a mission in a city full of vampyres would lock his balcony door. And this city certainly was full of them; Reisi found that a bit irritating at times, considering the effort he put into registering all vampyres and getting them to behave, though seldom to any avail.

  The vampyre found a bag the boy must have brought with him and busied himself with searching through its contents. He knew this was creepy -- beyond creepy, really -- but what better way was there to find out more about dear Fushimi-kun's past? It seemed his ties with this Misaki had been rather strong as a human, so Reisi figured he must have something that would help in better understanding his Bloodline.

  And he found that something in the form of a diary. It could be argued as journal, but regardless. A small smile found its way to the elder's lips as he turned to the first page, settling himself in an armchair near the balcony door. The date was set roughly four years ago, and the entry droned on about how bored Misaki was with his life. It didn't seem he'd had any affiliation with Saruhiko by this point, so Munakata merely skimmed through these first few pages. It wasn't until August about three years ago that he finally read about Misaki's first encounter with Saruhiko.

  _'VII-IX:_  
 _Some loser just transferred here for his sophomore year. He's such an idiot! He just sneers every time someone makes fun of his hair-do or something and it's just really aggravating. And get this -- his name is Saruhiko. How lame is that? Stupid monkey, serves him right. He was in my usual seat at lunch and didn't even look at me when I started telling him to get lost. He wasn't even eating for fuck's sake! Just reading some stupid book. I sat down at that table anyway because I wasn't just gonna let him run me off from my usual place. That seemed to surprise him and that was good. I was probably the first person to get an actual reaction out of him. But then he just started ignoring me again and I got pissed and took his book from him. He got mad too and tried to take it back...'_

* * *

*F L A S H B A C K*

* * *

_"Heheh, what's wrong, monkey? Don't want me to read your lame-ass book?" Yata teased, holding the guy back with one hand while his other stretched in the opposite direction. Saruhiko may have been taller, but his arms weren't that long._

_"Give it back, shortie. You don't want to know what it's about anyway." The guy said, his voice less impassioned as his actions. The nerve! Yata growled at the nickname, but gave a cruel smirk regardless._

_"Oh yeah, why? Lemme guess, it's some chick's story, right? That happily-ever-after bullshit?" Yata shoved Saruhiko back into his seat and opened the book to the page he'd been on. He was intent on reading it aloud for the entirety of the cafeteria to hear, but the first couple lines made his throat close up._

_This...this was..._

_"What the fuck!" Yata tossed the thing back at Saruhiko, who caught it smoothly against his chest. Yata's face was incredibly red, and he was almost shaking with embarrassment. "You mean you've been reading porn this whole time?!" He didn't try to keep his voice down, but Saruhiko didn't seem phased by it._

_"It's not porn -- you just happened to catch me in a graphic scene." He claimed, adjusting his glasses before turning his attention back to his damned book. It was like he didn't even care! He wasn't blushing or anything! The composure of this guy was really kind of incredible._

_Yata glanced around then, realizing he'd attracted attention with that outburst. He self-consciously tugged at his uniform collar, swallowing before sitting down again and lowering his head slightly under the stares. He couldn't help but be mad at Saruhiko for embarrassing him like that, but he was also curious about something._

_"But that's dude porn." He said quietly, pointedly. Saruhiko raised a brow at him over the edge of his book._

_"Your point?" He asked, turning a page. Yata narrowed his eyes, releasing a small sound of frustration. The guy knew exactly what his point was._

_"Well? Are you like...into that stuff?" He simply couldn't come right out and say it. If this guy actually was...you know...then he shouldn't have to anyway. Saruhiko scoffed lightly behind the cover of his book._

_"What exactly do you mean, shortie?" He asked with that knowing tone to his voice. Yata growled at the nickname again._

_"Hey, stop calling me that!"_

_"Then what's your name?" Saruhiko inquired. The brunet clenched his teeth at that._

_"Yata." The short answer earned him a curious glance over the book again. The boy looked off to the side and slid further down in his seat. "Yata Misaki..." He mumbled finally. "But everyone just calls me Yata and you're no exception, got that, monkey?" He added quickly. At last, Saruhiko put down the book, seeming to give the shorter male his full, amused attention._

_"Got it. **Misaki~** " Yata balled his hands up. He should have expected that from the bastard. "To answer your question: yes. I am into that...'stuff'." He winked, causing the brunet's face to explode in red again._

_"Don't do that...it's creepy." Yata muttered, looking away again._

_"Well, I'm a creepy person, Misaki~"_

_"...Monkey."_

* * *

*E N D  F L A S H B A C K*


	3. Irresistible

  Saruhiko _despised_ being out in daylight.

  The sun's harsh rays made his skin crawl all over, as if the entire organ was trying to jump off his body and hide under the safe shade. He irritably fixed his scarf so that it hid more of his neck, though no matter how much he covered up, he was still incredibly uncomfortable.

  The whole "burning up in the sun" thing was a total lie, but Saruhiko could definitely see how the stereotype had made its way into so many minds. Due to a vampyre's heightened senses — senses adapted to the night for nocturnal hunting — bright sunlight became much more harsh. It was nearly ten times warmer, and his cold skin wasn't used to such high temperatures anymore. He constantly had to keep his eyes lowered, even with his sunglasses, and even that did little to stop them from watering like crazy.

  "Ah, Fushimi-chan! I'm glad you could make it in today!" Came the annoyingly familiar voice of his boss as he entered the cafe he worked at. Having finally found relief from the light behind the tinted windows, Fushimi gladly rid himself of his excessive clothing. "Still got that problem with your skin, huh?" The female inquired. Yeah, his "skin problem". "Well anyway, Hikui already took off, so I'm gonna have to put you on his shift, too." She informed him. He clicked his tongue in agitation.

  "And why do I have to fill in for that slacker?" He asked, heading to the back to change into his uniform. Atrocious thing it was, really.

  "Because Yoake and Netsushi are both covering for Kyou's double shift and the new kid hasn't arrived yet." She explained. Fushimi quirked a brow at this, pausing before heading into the restroom to change.

  "New kid?"

  "Yeah! You didn't get my email? To be honest, I was a little worried about hiring him — he seems a little um...how do I put it? Rude?" She laughed nervously. "But he certainly knew what he was doing on the test; he must have worked for places like this in the past. He'll do fine, and he'll take Hikui's shift for you when he gets here. Everyone's late on the first day..." She trailed off as she left to return to the main part of the cafe, leaving Saruhiko to change with mildly distracted thoughts.

  
  
  It was roughly an hour or so later when this new kid finally arrived, which didn't exactly reassure Saruhiko that he would do as well as Hitomi, his manager, hoped. The line of people currently waiting on him blocked his view of whoever it was before he disappeared into the back, supposedly to get his uniform. Fushimi had to ignore it for now — being the only one working at the counter was a taxing job that required all of his attention if he didn't want to deal with the annoying complaints of their customers.

  Honestly, it was rather pathetic that Fushimi had to take on a job like this. Vampyre or not, he still needed to make a living. He was just able to make the last payment for his condo, so maybe this double shift would be a good thing in the end. Sure, he could move into a more affordable place like an apartment building or something, but that offered less privacy and more risk. He didn't trust himself around people most of the time. Luckily, in a place like this full of coffee scents amoung others, it was easy to distract himself from the humans surrounding him, annoying as they may be.

  By the time the newbie had finally made his way to the counter, Saruhiko had already taken care of the large line that always seemed to pile up like that in the afternoons. He'd been working fast, but not vampyre-fast. That was another thing he had to look out for — watching himself and making sure he appeared human. Vampyres weren't typically accepted in most places, so it was important to blend in if he wanted to stand a chance. Fortunately, most just saw him as a pale introvert who didn't really appreciate small talk.

  "Sorry for makin' you wait. My uniform got switched with someone else's and we had to find mine." Said the kid while Saruhiko was turned around to fulfill another order. But he froze then, a hand on the creamer while the other ceased stirring the cinnamon into the coffee. He spun around then, not believing his ears and having to see for himself that that was indeed who he thought it was.

  "Misaki?!" The outburst startled the other, causing him to drop the change given by the customer. He cursed quietly to himself as he hurried to pick it up before turning to see who had the brass to scare him like that. His bark died in his throat, however, upon seeing the voice's owner, and then they were both staring at each other incredulously, disbelievingly.

  _'Of all the places...'_ Fushimi clicked his tongue, still vexed amoung his shock. It was too damn early for—

  And then Yata was snickering. Why was he snickering? The situation was anything but comical, and the notion only got on his nerves.

  "What's so funny, shortie?" He hissed with a deathly glare. After last night, the kid still had the gall to laugh around him? Tch, hardheaded as ever, he supposed.

  "You..." Misaki managed out quietly. Saruhiko narrowed his eyes, prompting further explanation. "In that uniform...you're..." He apparently couldn't withhold his laughter then, and suddenly had to grip the counter just to remain upright. Saruhiko found himself surprised — _again_  — but he also realized he truly couldn't blame the boy. This thing really was quite atrocious; he'd have to make a request to change the colour scheme, anything to make it less... _eugh_.

  "Shut it." With a light slap to the boy's head, Saruhiko brought the coffee back to the counter, glaring down the customer who dared to look like she was going to laugh, too. He made it a point not to acknowledge the other after that, much to what seemed to be his utter annoyance. This only satisfied Saruhiko, and despite his morning he found that he was somewhat enjoying himself for once. It was amusing to see Yata work an actual job — in all his time knowing him, a job was the last thing on the kid's mind. Whatever he pulled on that test must have been something planned before he came here. Maybe Izumo had given him a heads up, what with his experience with places like this.

  Fushimi frowned then. Yata had said he was here on a mission, and he had to wonder what exactly that mission entailed. If it required taking on a job, even a temporary one, it had to be some kind of reconnaissance, gathering intel on the local area.

  Or the people living there.

  Considering who Mikoto was as a King, Fushimi doubted this was just some prank on the kid to make him finally get a job or to keep him out of the bar for a while. Mikoto must have known that the Blue King was here, and wanted to learn more about his business here. From what Saruhiko had gathered during his time with...that gang, whatever it was called, he knew that Mikoto and Reisi went way back. He'd heard rumours that they'd Shifted at the exact same time, but he wasn't sure what significance that held. He knew they were both old, such was there title of Kings, but they were also the youngest of the Kings, whilst the other two were considered the elders, given that they, too, became vampyres around the same time. At least, that was what Fushimi had heard. As a human, he held little interest in the history of vampyres — he'd only even joined that gang because of Yata — and up until now as a vampyre he hadn't much care for it.

  And then his shift was over. Fushimi sighed in relief; now he could go home and sleep the rest of the day away. Literally. Having to get up in the middle of the day just to go to work really was quite troublesome, and he felt he may just sleep in a while longer because of the taxing events that had taken place in such a short time. Taking on a double shift, no matter how short, and then running into Misaki yet again. Sigh, it didn't seem like he was going to be allowed to be rid of this nuissance for a long while to come, and that mere thought alone made him tired.

  "Saru!" That voice was calling to him again, and the vampyre in question's eye twitched. Was he being led to believe that this kid was getting off at the same time he was? "Wait up—"

  "Go away." Saruhiko drawled, not bothering to look at the short brunet that now mimicked his stride beside him.

  "Rude." Misaki mumbled. "Look, I'm sorry for laughing at you, if that's what you're —"

  "It isn't. I simply don't appreciate being followed around by pests." The vampyre said, bitterly at this last. Yata growled impatiently, and suddenly the raven found his path being blocked by an angry toddler.

  "Hey, what's your deal? After all this time we finally see each other again and you're acting like I'm just some annoying kid you met at work." _'That just about covers it,'_ Saruhiko thought with a sneer.

  "You seem to have forgotten what happened last night." He said in that venomous, rasping voice of his. He offered a smile for effect, baring the tips of his fangs to the boy in case he'd forgotten about that, too.

  "I don't give a damn what happened last night!" Saruhiko's hand circled around the wrist that was going for his scarf. He didn't appear to be deterred. "I couldn't care less that you're a vampyre, Saru! I just —" He couldn't speak with a hand over his mouth as Saruhiko practically dragged him behind the cafe building they'd just left moments ago. The raven released him then, just avoiding a bite to the hand. "Hey, what the hell—!"

  "Keep your voice down, idiot." Saruhiko warned, glancing back the way they'd come. He hoped no one heard that little outburst of his. "Still as thick-skulled as ever..." He muttered to himself, combing his fingers through his hair in a frustrated manner.

  "O-oh...sorry." The brunet mumbled, scratching the back of his head. "But, don't you understand? I just want my old friend back, vampyre or not." He stated, almost pleadingly. "Please, you can come back to Shizume City with me, back to HOMRA, and we can —" Saruhiko seemed to be forming a habit of interrupting the elder.

  "You think I actually want to go back there?" He shot, catching Misaki off guard. "All HOMRA is is a bunch of children playing gangsters. Your King, Mikoto? He's a joke, a lousy excuse for a vampyre."

  "Don't talk about Mikoto-san like that!"

  "But it's the truth. A real vampyre, especially a King, wouldn't lower his standards to those of petty humans to do his dirty work for him. He's a lazy coward, Misaki. He even has to resort to sending someone like you to find out about someone he doesn't have the gall to face himself." He pursed his lips after that, realizing he may have just slipped information about the Blue King to Yata. He wasn't sure how much he already knew, but he didn't seem entirely too worried about that right now.

  "Someone like me? And just what the hell is that supposed to mean?" He questioned, clearly ticked and maybe just a little mad at Saruhiko for his choice of wording. This only brought an oddly satisfied smile to the vampyre's face, though.

  "Need I spell it out for you? Face it, you aren't the brightest light in the bunch, you're too hotheaded and won't listen to reason half the time. They sent you out here because you're expendable. They don't care what happens to you, so long as they learn what they need to. If you don't come back alive, they'll know more than enough." He stepped forward, prompting Misaki to move backward until his back hit the wall. "And you have to already know this...if you do make it back, you may not be as human as your were when you came here." He whispered, not minding encroaching into the boy's personal space. "This place is crawling with vampyres, Misaki. The longer you stay here, the more at risk you'll be. Every second brings you closer to the inevitable. And all it would take is a single bite..." He wasn't entirely too sure how he'd gotten so close to Yata's neck, but he suddenly had to close his mouth to refrain from letting his teeth touch that swan's neck of his. The fact that he hadn't even realized what he was doing should be a strong incentive for Yata to hightail it out of here while he still could. Even Saruhiko couldn't control himself sometimes.

  "So that's it..." He heard the boy utter, and he tilted his head to see him looking down. He could just make out the upward tilt of his lips. "I see...you're just worried about me!" The outburst made him recoil, and he straightened himself as if he hadn't been about to sink his teeth into the boy's neck. Not that he particularly seemed to be aware of that in the first place.

  "What?" He asked incredulously.

  "Yeah! The reason you're saying all this stuff and acting so weird is 'cause you're worried about me. I knew you were still in there somewhere!" Saruhiko found the brunet's arm around his neck, face plastered with the dumbest grin he'd ever seen. On one hand he was exasperated — Yata had completely misunderstood what he was trying to get at. On the other, he couldn't help but feel a tingle of his old amusement at the boy's hardheadedness. Still, the angle his back took on to accommodate having Misaki's arm around his neck wasn't all that pleasant, so he slipped out from under the hold and fixed his sunglasses on his face. That was a habit he retained from being human, when he actually needed glasses.

  "You idiot..." He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck tiredly. He let out a sigh as he glanced up at the sky through his heavily tinted shades, and it still hurt like a son of a bitch. But he was able to catch a glimpse of the sun's position in the sky — seemed to be half past four o'clock. If he wanted to get any sleep and still be able to hunt tonight, he'd have to get home now.

  And that was just what he planned on doing. He turned away from Yata without another word, much to the elder's bafflement. Saruhiko had this weird hope that the boy wouldn't follow him, but lo and behold his hopes were crushed.

  "So where are you headin' now?" Misaki asked, walking along beside him again with his hands behind his head. Another drawn-out sigh escaped the raven.

  "Home. Are you going to follow me there, too?" He inquired, only partly serious.

  "Are you kidding me? It's like the middle of the day, and you're just gonna go home?" Fushimi paused, turning to give his old friend an exaggerated look. It took him a short second, but he caught on eventually. "Oh, right." He laughed sheepishly, but Saruhiko just shook his head and continued on. Honestly, Misaki was so carefree it really did worry him sometimes, though not in the way the boy seemed to think. "Well...do ya mind then?"

  "Don't you have somewhere else to be? Somewhere far, far away from me?" Saruhiko asked in annoyance. He shouldn't really be surprised by how stubborn the kid was, but he always was, for some reason.

  "Come on, don't be like that. I wanna see where you live." Yata said matter-of-factly. Saruhiko quirked a brow.

  "Why, so you can see for yourself if I live in a crypt and sleep in a coffin?" He snorted when Yata pursed his lips a looked away, apparently deciding not to answer. "That's awfully stereotypical of you, Misaki. You should know better. Thoughts like that would offend your King." He pointed out. "We're not that morbid, you know. At least, not collectively. I suppose one can have his preferences, but for the most part we still enjoy human luxuries." He wasn't sure why he felt the need to explain, but he did. It seemed to sate Yata for the moment, so he enjoyed the peace and quiet while it lasted.

  They'd almost made it to his condo when Saruhiko wondered if he was really comfortable letting Misaki know where he lived. If it weren't for the fact that their work times were the same, he'd almost be worried about coming home one day to find the kid in his house. Not that it would be all that weird — they did used to live together, after all. He vaguely wondered where Misaki was staying, and whether not that area of town put him in much danger.

  "You live here?" Yata asked as they approached the complex; Saruhiko merely nodded. Upon entering the building, he brought them to an elevator, working on peeling off his protective clothing along the way. The windows that lined the hallway on his floor would be a bitch, but his condo was the first door down so he would push through it. He was already feeling uncomfortably warm in this garb.

  Saruhiko wasted no time with the key as he entered the flat, letting out a contented sigh as the dark house gave his twitching skin relief. He heard Yata stumbling over something, probably the long table near the door, but didn't pay him any mind. He'd been intent on passing out upon arriving home, but now that he had to entertain a guest he had to put that off. He wouldn't be able to sleep with Yata around anyway, not so much because of his loud nature, but because he didn't feel comfortable letting his guard down with someone else in the house, no matter who it was.

  "Man, I can't see shit. Don't you have any lights in here?" That voice was eerily close to him, and Fushimi pursed his lips. He really wasn't used to having someone in his home, and a human at that. Sighing, he reached out and grabbed the back of Yata's shirt collar, yanking him backward to sit on the couch.

  "Stay." He ordered before moving toward the wall where the light switches were. If there was anything even moderately creepy about this place, it was the cobwebs gathering dust on the switches he never used. Closing his eyes so as to allow himself time to adjust to the artificial lighting, he flipped a few on, having to try a couple times to get the right areas. Like he said, he never had a use for them so he hadn't thought it necessary to remember which switch went to which light.

  Yata's small sound of bewilderment caught his attention, and he glanced in the direction of the shorter male once his eyes had adjusted somewhat. He'd made it a point to have dim lights installed in the event that he ever were to use them, so it was quite as painful as it could have been. "Dude, your place is sick." The brunet had gotten to his feet again and was now exploring the flat, the kitchen predictably catching his attention first. Saruhiko followed at a distance — he didn't want the kid breaking any of his stuff, after all. He had enough to pay for as it was.

  Once Yata had concluded his once-over of the place, he made a show of stretching and collapsing on the black leather couch, seeming fairly content. He caught Saruhiko's gaze questioningly, then followed it to his shoes, and he laughed sheepishly before taking them off and placing them neatly on the floor. Saruhiko always had been a clean-freak like that.

  "So, when can I move in?" He asked, clearly in a teasing manner though it made Fushimi's eyes narrow.

  "Excuse me?" Yeah, right, the last thing he needed was the kid living with him. It was hard enough being around him as it was; did he not understand the danger he was in around Saruhiko? Especially with threat of this Blue King that had suddenly taken such an interest in him. The raven picked a bottle of wine from the rack, plucking a glass from the pristine tray nearby. He took a seat on the other end of the couch, idly pouring himself a generous amount.

  "Alcoholic..." Yata muttered, obviously with no intention of the other noticing.

  "I heard that." Fushimi said, lifting the glass to his lips with a slight smirk at the kid's seeming surprise. But he wasn't going to deny it — he really did have a problem. Not that it was particularly easy for him, as a vampyre, to get drunk, simply because his body didn't work the same as a human's. Due to the constant lack of plasma to carry the contents of the wine throughout his body, it was actually considerably difficult to become intoxicated. Of course, that was just another incentive for him to drink.

  "You know it'd be cool, if we started livin' together again." Yata said, reclining onto the arm of the chair. He looked like he was about to continue, but Fushimi didn't give him the chance.

  "Forget it." He snapped, drawing the other's attention again. Honestly, he knew Misaki could be stubborn sometimes, but this was beginning to get a little excessive. He already regretted letting the kid know where he lived. "You know that can never happen. Nothing will ever be like it used to." That particular realization prompted another swig of wine, and Yata sat up once more.

  "Who says it has to be like it used to?" The brunet asked, causing the vampyre to shoot him a questioning look. What was he getting at? "Well, I know things'll never be the same, what with you being a vampyre now...but that doesn't mean we can't try again, right?" Crystal optics narrowed in suspicion at the elder's diffident behavior. "You don't have to worry about goin' fang on me; I can take care of myself just fine. And besides, the two of us livin' together will make the bills easier to pay. That's the whole reason we did it before."

  Saruhiko closed his eyes, exhaling labouriously as he set his glass aside. He remained still for a moment, pondering over his thoughts before taking to his feet. Misaki watched him curiously as he approached, leaning back with obvious alarm when the raven began to encroach into his personal space. He only stopped when his hands braced the back of the couch and he was leaning over the boy, looking up at him with trepidation swarming in those amber orbs. "S-Saru...? He stared right into Misaki's eyes, in such a way that would insinuate he could see into his very soul.

  "You fear me." He said finally, causing the other to blink twice in surprise. "Just two years ago, you wouldn't be shying away from me like you are now. I'd probably be lying flat on my ass with a new mark on my face, you storming out with flushed cheeks." At the mention, that same flush returned, but that was the one and only similarity between then and now. "It won't work, because you're afraid of me now. You're afraid of the monster I've become." He straightened himself again, face solemn in his own discovery.

  But he wasn't given the chance to move away, because two arms were suddenly around his neck, prohibiting him from regaining distance. He let out a surprised breath, the boy only clinging more tightly too him. Every trace of fear he'd just seen had evaporated, the only thing he felt being desperation in Misaki's grip. However, it wasn't necessarily the spontaneity of the action that caught him off guard, but the scent that suddenly infiltrated his nostrils.

  He never knew how good coffee smelled on Misaki. Then again, his sense of smell had never been so attuned, and blood had never held a particularly attractive aroma to him when he was still human. The combination of those two substances now, however, was triggering a very peculiar reaction in Saruhiko, and his body shuddered with anticipation. In the next moment, they were back on the couch, one of Saruhiko's knees on the cushions for support as he clutched Misaki's shoulders tightly and locked his suddenly ravenous gaze onto his tanned neck. Misaki was saying something — it sounded like a question but the vampyre wasn't paying attention. He was far too busy calling upon every ounce of willpower to keep from sinking his fangs into the boy's neck. This must have been the nth time this had happened, but surprisingly enough Saruhiko could honestly say he'd never lost his composure quite like he was now before having reunited with Misaki.

  "Saruhiko...stop..."

  He didn't know how, and he didn't know why, but that voice was what finally brought Fushimi back from the edge. With a ragged breath, the raven clamped his mouth shut, along with his eyes. He tried to focus — on anything and everything but that scent. There were hands gripping his own shoulders when he couldn't loosen his own grasp.

  "Misaki...I can't..." The smell, the temptation was all too intoxicating. If there was one thing that could get him drunk it was this.

  "Yes, you can. I trust you, Saru." Yata's body was warm against him, and even though Saruhiko could smell his fear the boy suppressed it and held him tighter. "This is just something we've gotta get through if we're gonna make this work." He shouldn't be breathing — shouldn't be letting himself inhale that scent — but his deep breaths would help calm him, or so he hoped. But his lips parted farther with every breath, allowing his fangs to show more and more of themselves. It was almost painful, restraining himself like this. A vampyre's instincts were purely animalistic, a very major part of what made them so inhuman. An animal, a monster, like him no longer retained the ability to suppress these primal urges. But each time Misaki spoke — it was turning into nonsensical rambling at this point — he found it became easier to regain a hold on his sanity, which had already been in tatters from these past two years that had only begun his eternity.

  Saruhiko moved, but Misaki's grip forced him to be dragged along, and he was against the wall. Another flash of movement and they were on the opposite side of the house. It was that Fushimi was trying to shake the boy off — it was like his mind was trying to get him to let go and move away, but at the same time to hold on. His consciousness knew that if he was ever going to overcome this urge that always surfaced itself during times like this, he would have to face the matter directly. And that meant risking Misaki's life in the process.

  Another blur of his feet, and the impact with the wall this time echoed thickly. He'd gotten a hold on his breathing, at least, causing it to cease so that the scent wouldn't distract him. But his other senses — being able to see the veins under the boy's skin, to hear the blood rushing through those veins — were still very much apparent to him. He leaned heavily against Misaki, biting down harshly onto his own lip and letting that cold, disgusting blood spill into his mouth. It certainly worked well as a deterrent, and at long last Saruhiko was able to pry himself from the poor human, secluding himself in an unlit corner, watching Misaki with a strangled glare.

  "You need to leave." Again, his voice refused to work properly, though whether that was from lack of air or his excitement, he couldn't be sure.

  "What? No way! Saruhiko, what you just did was awesome!" And the boy was coming toward him again.

  "Misaki stop —"

  "There's nothin' to worry about, Saru. This just proves that you're able to control it. This means that we can work things out."

  "Please, don't come any closer—" It was too late. He could already smell it again, and any strength he had betrayed and fled him right then and there.

 

  And it tasted so _good_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think...this may have been a little longer than anticipated ^_^' Sorry about that! Or not, if you enjoyed it~ It would be great to know how I'm doing so far. Any constructive criticism? Is it good, bad, eh?


	4. Bloodlust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please be aware that things get really steamy for a minute here, so if you're squeamish about that sort of thing you may want to scroll down a few paragraphs. That is all.

  Saruhiko could not believe the bliss of finally being able to let his fangs pierce that supple flesh. The blood was like the gods' nectar on his tongue, and he felt that its effect on him may hold true to the comparison if he drank too much. But at the same time _he couldn't stop_. There was no chance in Heaven or Hell that he would be able to detach his teeth from such ambrosial wine. Misaki's blood tasted better than any year of wine and Saruhiko thought that he would gladly die if this were what brought him his demise.

  Yet, there was something different. For once, it wasn't all about the blood. The vampyre found himself caught up in the excitement of the moment, the heat, the bloodlust, the _desire_. After a few blurry movements in which Fushimi subconsciously tried to get the bearings of his own home, he finally found his way back to the couch again, where he laid Misaki along its length and crawled on top of him without hesitation. Despite his original belief, he was able to pry away his teeth fairly easily, but his lips were another story. They roamed the brunet's neck and collarbone with ravenous ardour. In all his years of knowing Misaki, he'd never been so bold as to make a move on him, but now he felt as if he would suffocate if his lips weren't attached to his skin. It was almost as if he were being affected by his own aphrodisiac, which of course led him to wonder how Misaki was being affected by all this. He spared a glance at the boy's face and took a perverted satisfaction at seeing him blushing like mad and biting his lip in a furious but futile attempt to restrain any sounds he may be producing.

  Saruhiko caught the human's jaw in his hand, the temptation becoming too much as he finally claimed those lips as his own. He could practically feel their previous innocence burning away under his sinful kiss, and Fushimi was filled with inexplicable joy that he was able to steal Misaki's first kiss. He pulled away, useless air flowing raggedly in and out of his lungs. Not that he needed to breathe anymore; it was a simple human habit he retained, just like that with his glasses. The look on the boy's face was absolutely delectable: a mixture of embarrassment, desire, uncertainty, bewilderment, all residing in the ever-deepening blush and his glazed amber eyes. Saruhiko found himself entranced in those eyes for a moment, somewhat lost in the realization that this was Misaki, his best friend, and he had just kissed him. He wouldn't deny having held an attraction toward the brunet as a human and apparently even now as a vampyre. His bold actions had excited him in a way he hadn't felt in what seemed like years, even though it couldn't have been more than a few months since he...relieved himself of such urges.

  Vampyres weren't as easily affected by hormones as humans were, since they didn't carry the plasma in their blood to transport hormones, nor the normal human bodily functions to constantly produce them. However, should a vampyre ingest the blood of a human who was suffering a build-up of certain hormones, the vampyre will experience those effects as well. Therefore, Saruhiko came to the conclusion that it wasn't necessarily his fault that he was so excited, but Misaki's. The thought brought a long, predatory grin to his face, one far more fitting of his normal behavior before Misaki crashed back into his life.

  "Misaki, you look so cute. Blushing, panting. You're practically begging for my touch." He stroked a long, pale finger down the boy's neck to demonstrate, feeling an electrifying tingle shoot down his spine as his body leaned into the touch. He paused at the center of the brunet's collarbone, prodding forward until his nail broke the skin, just enough to cause a small pool of blood to form. A choked sound caught itself in the back of Misaki's throat, and Saruhiko licked his lips before inclining his head to lap up the blood. Misaki's whimper pulled an aroused growl from his own throat, and his hand grabbed the base of the boy's jaw, tilting it to the side. Saruhiko trailed his tongue up the side of Misaki's neck, pausing at his ear to nibble of the soft lobe.

  "S...Saruhiko..." Misaki's voice sounded breathless and needy and _damn_ did it turn Saruhiko on. But somehow it also snapped him out of his lustful stupor. The glaze on his eyes seemed to disappear as his mind fully registered the moment.

  Yes, Misaki was practically begging to be fucked. Yes, Saruhiko was immensely turned on. But was this feeling really his own? He'd drank Misaki's blood, and Misaki was under the effects of his poison. Therefore, it was as if Saruhiko really had ingested his own poison, and—

  Misaki was under the effects of his poison.

  Saruhiko's eyes widened.

  The vampyre immediately pulled himself off of the boy, falling clumsily off the couch. He scrambled toward Misaki's head and took his face between his hands, the look of horror on his face dwindling for the moment. Misaki didn't seem to be showing any signs of Shifting just yet, but that didn't mean he was in the clear.

  "Misaki, Misaki, snap out of it!" He shook the elder pleadingly, for he was still in that hazy state of mind due to the aphrodisiac. "Misaki, wake up, damnit!" The slap that ensued was loud, but Saruhiko made sure to withhold his strength, but only just. He needed Misaki to come to now, but he wasn't sure why. It wasn't like he could do anything to stop the process — was that even possible? The thought made him tremble slightly.

  "OW—!" It seemed the stinging blow had done it's job. Yata wrenched himself from Saruhiko's grip, scooting a small distance away on the couch. "What the hell, Saruhiko?" He growled, rubbing his cheek, which was now red for an entirely different reason. Saruhiko paid it no mind, though, taking to his feet and invading the brunet's personal space once more.

  "What do you feel right now? Are you in pain? Are you numb? Tell me." He ordered hurriedly, frantically.

  "Yes, I'm in pain; my face feels like it got hit by a truck!" Yata yelled. "What the hell's gotten into you, Saru? At first you were so..." He trailed off, face exploding in red once more as he glanced away. "...What was that all about, anyway?" He muttered, pulling his knees to his chest slightly. Fushimi was just utterly relieved that the human was acting normal, for now.

  "That doesn't matter." Fushimi said dismissively, though he reclined his position, feet tucked under him as he just watched Misaki, silently. He didn't know what else to say, didn't know what he could say. He wanted so much to yell and shout, but he didn't know what he would yell and shout about. He was so racked with fear and guilt that he could only watch, waiting, dreading the moment when the process would begin. The only thing he could do at this point was simply be there, for Misaki, to help him through it. Saruhiko hadn't had anybody there for him when he Shifted, and it had been a nightmare. The pain was the only thing he remembered clearly from that time — burning, stinging, _excruciating_ pain. He wanted to die but his body wouldn't let him.

  And now he was going to put Misaki through all that.

  Would he ever be able to for—

  "Saruhiko." The vampyre blinked as he heard his name from the brunet's lips. The owner of the voice was eyeing him wearily. "What's...wrong with you? You look like your pet cat just died." Yata said, slowly — slowly, but surely — bringing himself closer to the raven. "What happened? What's with the sudden mood swings, huh?" His voice was soft, concerned, and Saruhiko hated it. He shouldn't be concerned for him — he should be concerned for himself!

  "I..." He couldn't quite get the words out, for confusion was settling itself in his mind. Should it be taking this long? If Fushimi wasn't mistaken, the pain of the Shifting process had come only moments after his attacker's — Reisi's, as he now knew — aphrodisiac wore off. It was clear Yata had recovered now, so why wasn't anything happening? Fushimi's gaze drifted to the bite wound on Yata's neck —

  —Or what used to be a bite wound. His eyes widened considerably as he looked at it now — it was almost completely healed! Saruhiko was aware of the...hunger he'd had for Misaki's blood, and he had never been gentle when he fed. But now, aside from the drying blood around the area, all he could make out were two small incisions, as if the skin had merely been pierced by a needle and not the razor-sharp tips of his fangs.

  Yata's gaze followed his, fingers raising to the reddened flesh as he saw for himself the impossibility of what his body was doing. "I don't...understand... Did you do something?" The boy asked, looking back up at the vampyre in his own confusion. Saruhiko shook his head slowly.

  "Does it hurt? Your neck?" He asked quietly; Yata shook his head. This didn't make any sense. It was long past the time for the Shifting process to have taken place, so why wasn't it? Was there something wrong with his poison? Was there something wrong with Misaki?

  "Saru, what's going on?" The brunet repeated his question, clearly desperate for an answer now. Saruhiko stared at him blankly for a long moment.

  "I don't know. I thought...I thought I'd triggered your Shifting." He said. Yata's eyes widened a bit at first, but returned to normal as a contemplative look crossed his face.

  "You mean when you bit me, right? 'Cause of that poison stuff vampyres have?" Fushimi nodded.

  "Yes. There's no reason you shouldn't be in unimaginable pain right now." He heard Yata's breath hitch quietly, sending the shorter man a questioning look of his own.

  "...Is that what you went through?" Yata asked tentatively. Fushimi pursed his lips.

  "Yes. It was unbearable and like no pain I'd ever felt before." Saruhiko's eyes dropped, but he shook his head, unwilling to travel down that lane again. "But that isn't the point! Why aren't you Shifting? What went wrong? This has never happened in the past..." It was so confusing and frustrating — and he wasn't even sure why he cared so much. If Misaki had, in fact, avoided the Shifting process, no matter how, he should be happy, right? Elated, really. But the improbability of it all was simply too confusing to ignore.

  "Have you turned people into vampyres before?" Misaki asked, his eyes once again averted to the side. Saruhiko frowned; he could guess what the boy was thinking.

  "Well...no. Not fully, at least." He always killed them before that happened. "But my poison has always worked just fine. I don't understand why you're the one exception." He crossed his arms in vexation. But it seemed Yata's thoughts still lay elsewhere.

  "What do you mean by 'not fully'?" He questioned, face taught stubbornly though he refused to meet the other's eyes.

  "Misaki, are you not worried about this? There could be something really wrong with you!" Saruhiko pointed out, only to have his efforts ignored.

  "Why are you avoiding the question? Have you...done that stuff with other people before?" The raven's shoulders dropped. It seemed he would have to sate the boy's obvious jealousy before he could make him see reason.

  "No, Misaki. Sometimes, I just...like to play with my food." He said teasingly, sufficiently flustering the older boy somewhat. "I'll let them begin the Shifting process before I finish them. It's...fun to watch them try to run while in so much pain." That smile, the one that showed just how crazy he really was, was curling onto his lips again, and he could practically sense Misaki's shudder of fear.

  "Man, Saru, you really are fucked up." He heard the brunet mutter, immediately wiping the grin off Saruhiko's face. "But then again I've always known that about you, so it's not that surprising." Yata continued, causing the raven to look at him in his own surprise.

  "Misaki..." The boy was just smiling at him like the idiot he was, and Saruhiko had to swallow down his own smile, the one that Misaki was always able to pull from him no matter the situation. "Why are you acting so understanding? Aren't you terrified of what I am? Aren't you disgusted by what I do?" He asked, somewhat accusingly. Misaki looked at him steadily then, smile still in place.

  "You've always kinda freaked me out, Saru. You're just that kinda guy, ya know? The only difference I see now is that you're enjoying yourself as what you are, because there's no way back. Sure, it's a bit creepy, but it's who you are. And...I like who you are." He was blushing again, but he didn't refrain from reaching out to take Saruhiko's hand. "That's why...that's why I want to be here with you while I can. I have to go back to Shizume by the end of the week to report, but until then...I want to spend some time with my old friend." He concluded, finally raising his eyes. A glistening honey met icy azure, and despite how frozen Saruhiko felt by Misaki's words, his own hand lifted to cup the boy's face. Misaki leaned into it without thought, closing his eyes to the cold touch. He didn't resist when Saruhiko tilted his head upwards slightly, inclining his own toward the other.

  When their lips met this time, it wasn't with an insatiable lust that neither could control; it was with gentle care, soft and tender and with a mutual curiousity. If it counted for anything, Saruhiko could honestly say that this was the first time he'd experienced this kind of kiss, so in a way it was his first. And it was Misaki's, which made it all the better.

  The only question he cared enough to ask now was simply this: were they really just "friends" now?

  
  
  Reisi Munakata adjusted his glasses, one arm supporting the other as he leaned lightly against the door to a certain condo. The sun had been harsh until the rain clouds rolled in and covered it — but he'd been more focused on the two behind the door to really care much anyway. A smirk found its way onto his lips then.

  _'It seems those two were closer than I originally thought,'_ he noted internally, pulling out his phone and dialing for his lieutenant. _'If they figure this out, I won't have a chance to persuade Saruhiko. It's best if he remains oblivious for now.'_ His thumb pressed the send button after he'd finished typing his message.

 **—[Lieutenant Awashima]: Please contact the Special Units and have them prepare a team of four. Our dear Fushimi has found his mate.** —

* * *

  Somehow Yata eventually did end up staying at Fushimi's place. He'd even made himself go to sleep with the vampyre despite it being the middle of the day. They shared the latter's bed on the silent agreement that it would be too much trouble to set up the one guest room. It wasn't as cute as one might have thought, though. Misaki had never been still when he slept, always tossing and turning and mumbling some kind of nonsense. Saruhiko was sure he'd heard his own name a few times, but he wouldn't pry. He had his own dreams to worry about.

 

  Saruhiko awoke to the scent of food. Not his food, but human food, which immediately set his mind on edge. Memories of the prior day came back slowly, and the raven found himself looking around his room, seeing how his bed was empty aside from himself. Yata was nowhere in sight — so he must be the reason there was food in his house.

  Sighing tiredly, Saruhiko got out of bed, his feline-like stretching drawing a small sound from his throat. He didn't leave his room immediately, instead heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Technically, due to the unchanging physical properties of a vampyre, he didn't need to, but he felt gross if he didn't and it was a habit anyway. After finishing he changed into a simple black yukata and tied a silver obi loosely around his waist. It was mostly just to keep the cloth from falling open, for he didn't care to tighten it enough to hide his chest completely.

  Only then did he finally emerge into the main and spacious part of the condo. He could easily make out the individual scents — boiled rice, natto, tsukemono, nori, miso soup and broiled fish. In other words, a typical breakfast for his health-fanatic friend. Regardless of already being aware of what the shorter male was making, Saruhiko couldn't resist the urge to walk up behind him while he was turned toward the kitchen counter. A delicate hand came to rest on the boy's waist while he peeked over his opposite shoulder. Yata froze at the touch, and due to their close proximity Saruhiko was able to feel rather than see the brunet's face heating up.

  "You do realize it's the end of the day, don't you? Why are you making breakfast now?" He asked, curiousity still standing. "Where did you even get all this?" He didn't keep human food in his house — he couldn't eat it anyway.

  "I went shopping." Yata explained in short, returning his focus to mincing the vegetables. "And I didn't get to eat breakfast this morning. The diner I was going to eat at didn't open up early enough before I had to go to work." Saruhiko narrowed his eyes.

  "Your shift didn't start until two and you were an hour late." He pointed out skeptically. Yata shot him a small smile.

  "Not that work." He said simply. It didn't take the vampyre long to figure out what he meant — he was talking about his work for HOMRA. Was probably looking around town for information and that was why he was late in the first place. It wouldn't surprise Saruhiko if he'd gotten lost along the way; this was a new town for him, after all.

  Yata made to turn around then, causing Saruhiko's hand to slide to the boy's other hip as they came face-to-face. The brunet took one look at his attire and had no chance of stopping the blush that flooded his face then. Saruhiko's lips tilted upwards slightly as he grabbed Yata's wrist in his other hand, pulling their bodies closer with the hand on his waist. "Like what you see?" He teased, finding the elder's bashfulness to be rather amusing.

  "S-shut up, stupid monkey. Come on, at least let me eat my breakfast first." The shorter mumbled. Saruhiko's grin only widened at the insinuation that the boy wanted to continue this later. Feeling merciful, he released the skater and let him fix his plate. It seemed he'd only made enough for one, so he must've been aware that Fushimi wouldn't be able to eat regular food anymore. Yata seemed to be catching on to this whole vampyre thing now.

  Fushimi's face fell slightly. He couldn't quit thinking about what happened last day. It just didn't sit right with him that Misaki was somehow immune to his poison. Did that mean he was immune to vampyre poison altogether, or was it just his? And if the latter, why only his? What was so special about Misaki — or Saruhiko for that matter? Could it have something to do with the fact that he had been Sired by a King? Would Reisi have the answers to this? The raven sighed quietly, nibbling on the inside of his lip. He wasn't going to think about this on an empty stomach.

  Saruhiko disappeared into his room to change into something more practical for being outside — dark jeans and a black tank-top. He didn't like to wear anything that he didn't want getting stained — red was hard to get out, after all. "I'll be back later." He informed Yata as he headed for the door.

  "Wai—Where are you going?" The brunet asked. Saruhiko sent him a pointed look, tongue poking out through his lips as he lightly traced his teeth. The shorter male immediately lowered his head. "O-oh, right... You'll be careful, won't you?" He added before Saruhiko could leave. The vampyre steadied his look on the boy for a long moment, their eyes holding each other. Saruhiko was the first to look away, and he disappeared out the door before Misaki could say any more.

* * *

  "P-Please! Please!" The man yelled desperately, futilely attempting to crawl away from the approaching vampyre.

  "As much as I love to hear you beg, your voice annoys me. So shut up!" His fangs dug in deep this time, causing a satisfying amount of blood to flow down his throat. The man's choked voice died off quickly, and for that Saruhiko was thankful. He really had been annoying. He'd been bold enough to try and fight him at first, but the minute he saw he was out of his league he'd pled for mercy.

  Disgusting.

  The vampyre dropped the limp body a moment later, wiping his mouth of the scarlet stream that escaped his lips. He couldn't even finish his meal; it was as if something didn't taste right. Or, more rather, his tastes had changed. Sure, the blood still tasted like blood and it was good, but somehow he felt it could be better. His mind wandered back to the previous day, when he'd tasted Misaki's blood. He licked his lips just thinking about it — no doubt that'd been the best yet. He wondered...if Misaki was in no danger of Shifting because of his poison...if he'd let Saruhiko feed from him again...

  Saruhiko shook the thought from his head, growling at himself. He couldn't think like that. He couldn't allow himself to feed from Misaki again, for he might not find that sudden restraint next time to stop. He lifted a hand to his head and sighed, wondering just how he'd gotten himself into this mess with Misaki. He seemed to recall it being the brat's fault for following him home in the first place...but then again, Saruhiko was the one who let him come. He couldn't believe that he had so easily reverted back to how it had been when he was human, and sharing a house and occasionally a bed with Misaki wasn't a strange thing at all. It had become a natural part of his life, and he remembered how odd it had been after he became a vampyre and had to lead Misaki. It hurt — oh did it hurt to leave him like that. Misaki's utterly broken and betrayed expression still plagued his mind when he slept.

  "Leaving your food half-finished, I see." The voice had Saruhiko whirling around with a feral growl, instinctively taking on a defensive crouch when the scent of another vampyre reached his nose. For a moment, his eyes flickered between the shadows of the alley, unnerved by the fact that he couldn't find the source of the man whose scent betrayed that he was close by. And suddenly there was a presence behind him, and as he turned to deliver a high-kick to his stalker's face, his eyes caught a glimpse of stunning amethyst, causing his eyes to widen at the sheer intensity of the gaze.

  Needless to say, his motion faltered and he found his ankle being grasped by a firm hand, haulting the kick mere inches from its target. Time seemed frozen for what could only have been the seconds in which he found himself trapped in those violet oculars that seemed to bore into his very soul. Saruhiko only caught the split-second change of intent on the other vampyre's eyes before his body was flipped in the opposite direction. The moment he broke eye contact he found the ability to move again, just in time to catch himself on his feet in a mirror image of his earlier crouch. Saruhiko made quick work of studying his new opponent and trying to place a face to a name, though he pointedly avoided the man's eyes.

  The uniform he wore was familiar, but vaguely so. Everything came together at once when he connected the blue design to that of the similar garb those three vampyres from before had worn. Scepter Four, he believed was the name of the organization they'd said to be affiliated with. And given the vibe Saruhiko was getting just from being near this guy, he had to assume he wasn't just another vampyre grunt sent to spy on him. No, he was of much more importance.

 

  This was the Blue King, Munakata Reisi, and coincidentally Saruhiko's Sire.

—


	5. I Lead and You Follow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's taken so long to update! I plan to work on this story and Hidden in Love in spurts, to try and keep up with them evenly, so sorry if it takes a little longer than normal sometimes.

  "Your reflexes are certainly impressive, Fushimi-kun, but you still have many years ahead of you before you're quite ready to match my level." The honourific added onto his last name went in one ear and out the other for Saruhiko, for he was much more focused on the man before him rather than what he was saying. It sounded like nonsense anyway, so he didn't care. What he did care about was why the elder was here and what information he could give him. "Don't be so tense. I'm merely here for a chat." The deep voice claimed, its tone and audible compulsion practically forcing Saruhiko to pay attention. He remembered that about Mikoto, too — how he could command the attention of others just by speaking, no need to raise his voice or become stern. "I believe you already know who I am, correct? I seem to recall a report explaining your interrogation of my men." The extension of Reisi's foot was the only movement Saruhiko saw before the man was suddenly in front of him, and his head slammed back against the wall behind him from sheer surprise. He hardly registered the throb of pain as he looked up into the King's eyes, against his better judgement. Fortunately, it seemed their odd hypnotizing effect wasn't being used on him this time.

  "What do you want with me?" The voicing of his first question broke the dam of his throat and allowed all his others to spill out without his conscious permission. "Why did you turn me? Why do you want me to join your organization? What—" He was cut off by a silencing finger being held in the air.

  "All in due time, Fushimi-kun." The finger came to curl under Saruhiko's chin, and violet eyes seemed to trail to the younger vampyre's neck. Saruhiko was about to snap about his eyes being elsewhere, but wasn't given the chance to. "My concern for you now is simply this: You must cut that young boy from your life, before it's too late." His eyes refocused themselves as his face grew solemn, which only left the raven in deeper confusion.

  "Cut him...from my life? What do you mean? Why? Before it's too late for what?" Oh good, another load of questions that were bound to be left unanswered. Did he mean that Misaki was in danger by being around him? Well, he already knew that, but what if Reisi was talking about a danger he himself wasn't aware of? Was there some sort of special ability vampyres had that he just hadn't unlocked yet? Tch, great now he sounded like he came from a video game.

  "You do ask a lot of questions, don't you?" Reisi chuckled, his hand lifting farther to cup Saruhiko's cheek. The younger vampyre immediately recoiled, but seeing as he was against a wall, there wasn't much he could do. Reisi's lips were on his before he knew what to do, and his eyes widened considerably. He was too surprised to pull away from the cold fluid dripping into his mouth, and once it reached a certain point his reflex caused him to swallow. Nearly immediately after, his head felt light and hot and his eyelids drooped slightly as his body practically melted against the taller's. He felt a tooth nick his lip, drawing blood from him, as well, now that he realized he must have just ingested Reisi's own blood and correspondingly his poison's aphrodisiac. He hated himself for not being able to react fast enough, but his body was in a very sensitive state right now and the hand ghosting across his neck and into his hair wasn't helping. Reisi's tongue filled his mouth then, and through the lustful haze he vaguely noted saliva dribbling down their chins.

  Although what little was left of Saruhiko's conscious mind could conclude that his main objective was to ingest Saruhiko's blood, he felt that the King let the kiss linger far longer than necessary. Much longer than necessary, the vampyre confirmed, as he felt the elder's body pressing against his own. The hand not wound in his hair was curling around his waist and Saruhiko felt his fingers gripping at that blue fabric. Although his half-lidded eyes remained open, Reisi's had closed upon contact, clearly enjoying himself while Saruhiko was helpless. Vampyres most certainly were not immune to each other's poison, and should hunters ever take advantage of that fact it could end very badly for vampyres altogether.

  Had he been breathing, it would have been extremely difficult for him by the time Reisi finally pulled away and broke the kiss. He still held their bodies close, Saruhiko's fingers not willing to relinquish the fabric they clutched. The only form of protest and disgust was found in his eyes, though his body presented a much more wanton desire. Saruhiko could only force the look in his eyes upon the other's as he felt those fingers trailing along his jaw again.

  "You are quite the delicacy, Saruhiko Fushimi. I knew I made a good choice in turning you." The words rang through the younger's head for a moment before he could grasp their meaning, and by that time Reisi had pulled away from him altogether, causing his arms to fall limply to his sides. "I'll be sure to stay in contact. You'll be glad that I do, now that you know my taste." The echo of a deep chuckle was what was left in Reisi's wake, for he disappeared from the area with speed even Saruhiko couldn't match. One of the advantages of being a King, he supposed.

  The raven's back ground harshly against the wall behind him as he slid into a sitting position, his conscience returning to him slowly. He thought about what Reisi could have meant, about that last thing he said. Now that he knew his taste? Of course he meant the taste of the elder's blood, but what significance did that hold, and how was it going to affect him?

  Slowly Saruhiko got to his feet, his appetite significantly ruined by that little encounter. He started on his way back home, feeling a bit odd seeing as he usually fed three or four times before calling it a night. But then he remembered he'd have Misaki to return to, and suddenly he felt everything that had just transpired fly from his mind. He wasn't sure what exactly he planned to do with Misaki just yet, but hopefully the boy's natural attraction to action would breed something entertaining. A small smile crept onto his face as he thought about all the entertaining things Misaki could do.

 

  Upon returning to his condo, Saruhiko found the brunet seated on the couch. His stealthy entry hadn't seemed to alert him of his presence yet, so the raven took the opportunity to come up behind him and slip his arms around the boy's torso. He'd been expecting a jump and a blushing face, but instead Misaki just stood, pulling from his arms. Saruhiko froze for a moment in worry — had he gone too far with that? Was Misaki still not comfortable being touched in a more-than-friendly way? He hadn't seemed too averse to it earlier, but Saruhiko supposed he could still be confused. Hell, Saruhiko was still confused about a lot of things.

  Still, something in the boy's posture gave him the idea that that wasn't the issue at all.

  "Misaki?" He asked tentatively, head tilted slightly to the side. The brunet didn't speak, instead holding up his phone and pulling something up. Misaki finally looked at him when he turned around, and the look in his eyes nearly paralyzed Saruhiko, both with shock and anger.

  The only time he'd ever looked that devastated was when Saruhiko had left HOMRA. The fact that something else had caused that look made him furious, but he was still standing dumbfounded when Misaki handed him the phone. The vampyre grimaced as he took it, wearily glancing back up at his friend before pressing the play button on the video that had been brought up. He felt his gut wrench painfully as he recognized the two people in the dimly lit night he'd just returned from.

  The video didn't start from the beginning of the mess, but instead at the point when Saruhiko's hands had gripped Reisi's coat, effectively giving the illusion that he was responding to the kiss being forced onto his lips. He only realized then, looking at himself from a different perspective, how lustful he looked. He'd thought his protests would be clear in his eyes, but instead he looked like a pleading whore in Reisi's arms.

  Saruhiko had to turn the phone off at that point, not wanting to risk puking right there. His mouth was open in a shocked and disgusted gape, fingers clenching around the phone almost to the point of crushing it, though he withheld himself.

  "Who sent you this?" He asked, voice low and ragged with anger.

  "No ID." Misaki answered shortly, his own voice brisk and with an obvious hint of pissed. "You wanna tell me who the hell that was? And why you didn't think to tell me about him before?" The brunet asked, arms crossed and eyes shooting him a piercing glare.

  "Maybe because there was no him before." Saruhiko ground out, tossing the phone onto the couch and turning to begin a quick yet lengthy pace. "Misaki, he's a vampyre. He kissed me and infected me with his poison — I had no control over what was happening." He growled, still pissed about the entire situation and even more so now that Misaki was being dragged into it. "That was the Blue King, Munakata Reisi." He paused, glancing back at Misaki. "He's the guy you're here for, right?" He asked, more to confirm his lingering suspicions than out of cluelessness. The brunet seemed taken aback for a moment before nodding once.

  "How did you know?" He asked quietly.

  "I'm guessing you already know this, but Mikoto and Reisi were both Sired at the same time. Mikoto was deemed the Third King because he was Sired by the First and Reisi by the Second. It would only make sense that Mikoto would take an interest in Reisi being so close to Shizume City." He explained. "You're here to gather information on the vampyres who've been acting up lately, right? I don't know what your gang thinks but the vampyres under Reisi's command wouldn't be the ones causing trouble. They're part of a crime-fighting organization or something; I highly doubt they'd be so reckless." He finally stopped pacing and turned to look at Misaki.

  "...So you're not involved with him?" Saruhiko internally face-palmed. The boy just couldn't seem to focus on the important things, could he?

  "No, Misaki. I would never get with such a creep." He assured. That, at least, seemed to sate the boy's worries for now. With a contented mumble the brunet brought himself into Saruhiko's arms, surprising the vampyre a bit. But he simply smiled warmly and returned the embrace, letting his cheek rest against that head of chestnut hair. "I'm yours, Misaki. Always only yours." He whispered.

* * *

  A couple days had passed since then, and Saruhiko found himself oddly on-edge. If he hadn't known any better, he might have thought he was going through some weird vampyre period or something. Misaki was none too oblivious and Saruhiko felt guilty how cautious the boy was around him recently. Not that he shouldn't have been anyway, but regardless.

  The vampyre's appetite was constantly changing. One minute he would be starving and the next it was as if he could double over and puke the contents his stomach didn't hold. He actually might have come close at one point, but managed to recover just in time, it seemed. Misaki was worried, which heightened Saruhiko's anxiety over the matter, and the air between them always seemed so brittle.

  Saruhiko hadn't dared to feed from Misaki again, despite the number of times the boy had offered. He knew Misaki was just trying to help, but the amount of effort it took to keep himself in check around him at all was exhausting as it was. If he kept shoving his neck in his face like that he might not be able to resist, and he just knew that would end badly.

  Currently Saruhiko was home alone, Misaki having gone to work. His manager had told him to take some time off after he had a melt-down at work — completely out of the blue, too. He'd felt somewhat fine that day, and he was just beginning to think he'd gotten past this weird phase when all of a sudden his stomach felt like it was clenching and twisting around itself and he got the worst headache. In short, he'd spilled the coffee he was preparing and collapsed on the floor in pain. Hitomi had been about to call the ambulance when the agony lifted enough for him to get to his feet, at least, and he managed to convince her not to. Needless to say, he was told to go home anyway and have a doctor check on him sometime. Of course he told her he would, but in reality it was out of the question.

  Doctors and other professionals in the medical field were trained nowadays to identify a vampyre. In all honesty it wasn't that hard to do, considering they had no pulse and were generally cold to the touch, but he supposed there were more measures to be taken. If he went to see a doctor he would no doubt be discovered and taken to his execution. This place had zero tolerance for vampyres and he wasn't about to risk his eternity just because of some stomach ache.

  Okay, it was more than a stomach ache, but whatever.

  Saruhiko couldn't help but feel that it had something to do with Reisi. They'd exchanged blood, and while he didn't know what exactly that meant, he was starting to get an idea. Was it possible that exchanging blood with a King meant developing a certain need for his blood? The couple times the thought had crossed his mind, Saruhiko felt a faint, throbbing remnant of that ache, and he knew he was on the right track. But there was no way in the Seven Circles of Hell that he would go and look for that bastard, much less willingly drink his blood again. That was exactly what Reisi wanted, he realized.

  Groaning out in frustration, Saruhiko jumped out of his bed. It was such a pain, being stuck in the house, and he was surprised to find that he actually wanted to go to work, despite it being daytime. He could go to sleep, of course, and that was probably the smartest thing to do, but for some reason he was too restless to sleep. It'd been a chore to force himself into unconsciousness for the past couple days, actually. He was feeding less and less, the blood of his victims seeming much too tasteless to him now. It infuriated him how much he wanted to go to Reisi, to drink another vampyre's blood. Normally he hated the cold, bitter taste, but his mouth was watering at the thought of Reisi's, and deep down he knew it would taste better than anything.

  No, that was a lie. Misaki's blood was the best. He remembered quite clearly the euphoric zest blooming across his tongue in that instant, how hot and thick the mortal elixir had been. It had him breathing hard just thinking about it, and he shook his head. He couldn't think about that, not when he knew he shouldn't feed from Misaki again. He didn't know if he would be able to restrain himself like before, and he most certainly didn't want to take advantage of him in that state. He knew that, if he wasn't able to pull back in time, his carnal desires would overcome all rational sense. Misaki would hate him afterwards, he was sure of it.

  And after having Misaki back with him, after all this time, he didn't know if he could stand the boy's hatred anymore. He'd been able to cope with it after leaving, since he knew it had been the right thing to do then, but Misaki would hate him for an entirely different reason now, one that he couldn't make up for in his eternity.

  He needed to get out of the house and stop thinking about these things. It probably wouldn't help his situation if all he did was mope and worry about things that weren't going to happen. Grabbing a coat (not that he needed it, but the season was getting colder and it would seem odd if he didn't wear one outside) he headed for the door. Opening it, he was met with another obstacle in the form of a person.

  Reisi, to be exact.

  Saruhiko felt a tingle of fear crawl up his spine, and he found himself stumbling back from the King in his doorway.

  "What are you doing here?" He asked, hating how his voice shook. Just what the hell did this bastard think he was doing? Why couldn't he just leave him alone?!

  "I told you I'd keep in touch, did I not?" Reisi said, stepping in uninvited. "I'm surprised you didn't come looking for me first. Or were you on your way to do just that?" A smirk cracked that flawless face and Saruhiko swallowed, slowly inching away from the man as he mirrored his movements.

  "Get the hell away from me. Why can't you see that I want nothing to do with you?" The younger spat, mind beginning to go numb with panic as his feet hit the side of his couch.

  "Perhaps you're the one who can't see, Fushimi-kun. If you'd open your eyes a little, you'd realize just how badly you need me right now." Reisi was advancing on him, patient stride unfaltering. "Not just my blood, but my presence. You're probably too young to know this yet, but every vampyre holds a strong bond to his Sire, whether he wants to or not. It's an instinct that you can't smother. The only thing you can do is accept it." He was getting much too close now.

  "You shut your goddamn mouth. I don't care what my instincts are." Saruhiko said, eyes watching Reisi with a heated glare, though he refused to meet those violet eyes. As the King came forward still, Saruhiko hissed (on the verge of snarling, really) body tensing, ready to move into a defensive crouch. If he was going to follow any instinct, it would be to survive and kill. " _Get away from me!_ "

  Saruhiko moved as Reisi moved, but just like before his speed was no match for that of a King's. He felt teeth scrape across his shoulder, Reisi's fangs missing their mark by an inch or two before they sank into his flesh. Saruhiko's mouth fell open in a strangled scream that barely made it out. Hands gripped his arms firmly, keeping him in place as the elder's potent aphrodisiac entered his bloodstream. He probably melted faster than Misaki had the first time he'd tasted his blood, and Reisi moved closer to hold him rather than restrain him. Saruhiko's head lolled to the side, the pleasure seeping into his veins as his body reacted with disgusting need. The lust was far more powerful than it had been before, when they'd shared blood in a mere kiss while Reisi was absolutely consuming him now.

  "Bite me." The King murmured against his skin, withdrawing his teeth only to draw his tongue across the damage skin. Saruhiko's nerves jolted at the command, and his eyes automatically locked onto the exposed flesh of his Sire's neck. In the back of his mind he noted that Reisi wasn't wearing his uniform this time, instead opting for more exposing attire. He'd been planning for this to happen, of course, and Saruhiko was simply unable to resist.

  His own tongue flicked out to taste his target area first, relishing in the salty bitterness before finally sinking his fangs in, a groan of relief sounding low in his throat as the blood entered his mouth. His hands found purchase on Reisi's hips, pulling him closer hungrily as his shoulder was attacked once again. Although his own poison was far less potent than the King's, it still had some effect on him, and they found themselves immersed in each other's lust, moving without thought or reason. The cool leather of the couch was on Saruhiko's back in the next second, a body slipping between his legs as hands moved across his chest. The feather-light feeling in his head was euphoric, and Saruhiko wasn't sure when they'd started kissing but he was silently hoping they would never stop.

  There was a vague screaming in the back of his mind, an annoyingly desperate sound he couldn't make heads or tails of, so he just ignored it as cool hands slipped under his shirt and trailed up his stomach. His leg curled itself around Reisi's waist, a wanton noise leaving his lips as pressure rolled against his hips. Bloody lips ghosted across his jaw and down to his neck, claiming it with a gentle need. The only thing on his mind now was the heat between their bodies, the hands on his skin, the teeth on his throat. All he could register right now was Reisi and how much he _needed_ him.

  Why had he even tried to resist before? This wasn't so bad — it was great, actually. He'd never felt so high in his life and Reisi just kept taking him higher. Why had he deprived himself so of the nectar that was Reisi's blood? It was too good to even exist at this point and Saruhiko wondered if they were actually in some small patch of a far-off heaven that he didn't deserve by any means.

  The thought sent a faint pang through his mind, and an image flashed behind his closed eyes. Misaki. Misaki laughing at one thing or another in that obnoxiously loud way he laughed. Misaki smiling at him like he was the only thing that existed in his universe. Misaki's hopeful eyes when they'd seen him after all that time. Misaki's flushed face. Misaki peacefully sleeping. Misaki cooking breakfast. Misaki holding his hand. Misaki. Misaki. Misaki...

  The strength that suddenly welled up in his arms had probably been enough to dislodge a concrete support beam, and he put it to good use by quite literally throwing Reisi off of him. The elder vampyre landed unceremoniously on the coffee table, breaking it and sending splinters in all different directions. Saruhiko stood, heaving air whose only purpose served to control the utter rage flooding through his veins. And the gods knew he wanted nothing more than to unleash that rage onto the man on his floor, but he wouldn't succumb to that kind of loss of control. He wouldn't lose any control around this man, and that he swore. Never again. Reisi's mere presence threatened Misaki, _his_ Misaki. There was no way in the Seven Circles of Hell he would ever succumb to someone like him. Not while he still had Misaki.

  The King had yet to even recover from his shock when Saruhiko was upon him, eyes steady though flaring with a barely-concealed fire boiling just beneath his skin. His fingers closed around Reisi's shirt and lifted him effortlessly, feeling an excited tingle of satisfaction at seeing those violet eyes grow wary of him. Their effect on him seemed to have all but vanished, and he wasn't going to question why now. Instead he started walking, nearly dragging Reisi behind as he approached the curtained windows. He threw open the black covers with his free hand, revealing the balcony outside and nearly shattering the glass door as he opened it and continued onto the ledge, thrusting Reisi against the balustrade, dangerously leaning over the edge.

  All the while Reisi wore nothing but a frown, hands encircled around the one gripping his shirt but not necessarily resisting. The wariness in his eyes had diminished somewhat as he now steadied a curious gaze on him.

  "How interesting. No one's been able to resist my poison before." The King said, more to himself than to Saruhiko, he figured. But he didn't care for his words right now.

  "You're going to leave, and you're not going to come back." The younger hissed, bringing their faces close to allow Reisi to see just how near he was to breaking point. "If I _ever_ see you again, I will kill you." He added, hand tightening around its grip. An infuriating smile was risen in response.

  "I'll believe that when I see it. _Fushimi-kun_." And that was the last straw it took to make Saruhiko snap. With a shout of pure anger, he threw the man over the ledge of the balcony without any hesitation. He watched with shaking limbs as the King skillfully twisted mid-air and landed gracefully on his feet on the sidewalk on the other side of the street. The two pedestrians unlucky enough to witness the stunt gaped back and forth between Reisi and Saruhiko's floor, and were quietly swept away with a flicker of Reisi's image. And then he was gone.

  _Finally._

  Only then did Saruhiko register the uncomfortable burn on his exposed skin, and he quickly made his way back inside, tossing the door and curtains back into place behind him. While he was relieved, he was anything but happy. That smart-ass bastard had made it quite clear that he had no intentions of letting up his advancements, which meant Saruhiko only had more to come and it made him furious. What the hell had he ever done to deserve this? What? He didn't choose to become a vampyre, he didn't choose to become a King's Bloodline, and he certainly didn't choose to have Misaki involved in this.

  He told the boy to leave. Every day. He told him it would be safer if he just went back to Shizume. That he should tell that King of his to come talk to Reisi himself instead of sending out a clansman like the coward he was. Maybe Saruhiko would get lucky and they'd kill each other or something. Anything as long as Misaki was safe.

  Saruhiko's stomach growled. Of course now he was starving, now that he'd had a taste of Reisi's blood after depriving himself for three nights. Unfortunately, he couldn't feed until tonight. It looked like he was going to have to settle for wine for the time being. Luckily for him, it was the one thing that hadn't changed for him. Odd, how he would have to rely on something human-made. But that was the least of his concerns at the moment.

 

  Misaki came back just a couple hours later, hanging his jacket up on the rack beside the door before venturing farther into the house. He'd been eager to get home and check on Saruhiko to make sure he was doing well, since he'd been a little off recently. He knew it had something to do with what had happened between him and that King, but if Saruhiko hadn't figured it out, there was no way he was going to. He'd never really looked into the vampyre stuff, even though he served one. When he'd asked Mikoto back then, the King had just said that it was nothing worth looking into so he hadn't bothered. But now that it was causing his best friend trouble, he wanted to find out more.

  Upon entering the living room, Misaki was brought to a hault by the sight of the destroyed coffee table, Saruhiko passed out on the sofa with an empty bottle of wine hanging from his hand. The bag with his uniform in it slipped from his hand, eye twitching. Saruhiko had always been an angry drunk, so in all honesty it was surprising there weren't _more_ broken things strewn about the house. Eliciting a lengthy sigh, Misaki strode forward and took the bottle from Saruhiko's limp hand, rolling the vampyre fully onto the couch before going about cleaning up the mess he'd made.

  After pushing the worst of it into a pile and gathering the larger bits, Misaki paused, noticing a glint just under the entertainment center. Curiously, he picked it up, realizing it was a pair of glasses. But they couldn't have been Saruhiko's — when he had worn them, they'd had thicker frames, and he must have tossed those when he became a vampyre. It took a moment, but Misaki finally remembered where he'd seen these glasses before; the video.

  A jolt of unease trickled down his spine, and he suddenly felt as if the mysterious eyes of that King were watching him through the glasses. Clasping them tightly in his hand, Misaki stood and hurried to the trash, hand outstretched and ready to toss them in. But he hesitated.

  These glasses belonged to Reisi Munakata, the Fourth and Blue King and the reason he'd been sent here in the first place. It had never really been about the suspicious murders that were obviously the cause of vampyres. He'd known this from the beginning. It was about Reisi and Mikoto's apparent infatuation with him. It was infuriating to think that his King was so interested in someone who was hurting his friend, but surely Mikoto had plans for Reisi. He was probably thinking of a way to bring him down or something. That had to be it.

  So Misaki drew his hand back, feeling as if vile was rising in his throat just looking at them. They were probably useless junk at this point, but they still had some purpose, though minuscule. Maybe they would lure Reisi back here in search for them. Somehow Misaki thought he would use any excuse to return here and get at Saruhiko. What he wouldn't know was that Misaki would also be here, waiting for him.

  Ready to kill him.


End file.
